Ocean Eyes
by Bappo-Has-No-Lifeo
Summary: If the title is intriguing then read, please. :))


A/N : Hello, I am back and hopefully will finish a story to make myself feel better. I know this is the first chapter but if you are sensitive to death and suicide this is not the story for you.

:))

I looked at the water ripple below me. I know this was the worst way to go but I've tried to keep going by taking my medicine and self-harming. The sad fact is people keep pressuring me to do this. I am at least returning a favor. I have messed up and I know it is the last mistake I will ever make.

I tugged at my sleeves inhaling deeply.

"Hey! Get away from that ledge. It's dangerous," a small voice commented from behind. I scoffed, taking a step forward. The chain around my foot jerked the rock, it explains my life. I am a prisoner of my own mind. I also guess you could say that the rock is me and I am just a body.

"I've already got a fucked up life," I muttered coldly at the stranger. I picked up the boulder shrugging my shoulders. I twirled around with a cheshire grin and leaned back plummeting to the ocean. The only thing that stunned me was the look in my bullies eyes. Air filled my lungs but I quickly exhaled as I hit the water.

The impact didn't kill me surprisingly so here I am. The ocean filled my lungs every breath. It hurt so much but I didn't care. The same numbness was there when I cut myself numerous times. I just tried to look at my surroundings, which was surprisingly beautiful. The coral was a peachy colour, ocean was very clear, and the area was swarming with colorful fish.

My body started to shiver, goosebumps covered me head to toe. I started to lash my body around, gasping but only inhaled water. My vision blackened, flashing as I blinked rapidly. Then nothing. I felt nothing. No color, fish, or coral. No life.

I gasped awake, coughing. I let out a disgusting belch and threw myself in the direction of the bathroom. I leaned over the toilet, gagging and heaving. I had to throw up but it won't come out. I coughed some more, curling up in hope. The bubbles in my stomach rise as I now start making myself. On the third time, it spewed out by force. If my mother was here she would probably have priests do an exorcism. I groaned at the smell of sea water, it made my stomach churn. I threw up more, a small chunk lunging from my throat. I hacked spitting out a large sea foam loogie.

"Hey, brother? You okay?"

"Yes," I replied breathlessly staring at my puke with confusion. A small green and yellow fish swam around the toilet bowl in my watery throw up. It didn't show any signs that I puked except small amounts of sand and a fish.

"Do you think you will be able to make to school?"

"Of course," I stand to attention wincing. I flushed the toilet and wobbled to the door, opening it to be face to chest with my baby sister. She was four years younger than I and already my collar bone in height. I am seventeen with lots of depression and my sister is thirteen with lots of happiness. She doesn't know how much effort it took once our parents left. I was more like a parent than father.

"Let me shower," I shuffled to my bedroom shutting my sister away. I sighed resting against my door, I don't feel like going to school. I opened my eyes turning around, getting startled. My stomach churned knowing for a fact that I have not touched or swam in water. Only in my weird dream. My bed was drenched, soaked in water. I shook off the uneasy feeling, gathered my sheets and threw them in my dirty pile of laundry. Standing by my dresser I took out a black fleece sweater, with white skin tight jeans ripped at the knees. I sluggishly moved back to the bathroom to wash the scent of sea off my body.

I stepped out, drying off as quickly as I could. My sister banged against the door three times, "Hurry up brother, please."

"I am trying!" I snapped but swallowed the regret in my throat. I didn't mean to raise my tone with her. I am just not prepared to go back to hell. My mother and father argued all the time about us or their marriage failing. That is why I felt horrible. I dressed myself and before slipping on my shirt I stared at the scars littered all over my arms.

Upon exiting I searched for my sister, she was nowhere in sight except the small note on the table.

I took the bus brother. You seemed to be in a mood.

I sighed tearing the sheet. Something still feels off as I get a waft of salty sea water. My stomach churns as I take the car keys and storm off.


End file.
